An Unexpected Correspondence
by lucawindmover
Summary: Challenge fic: write a story with no names or dialogue...Two Hogwarts students are asked to participate in a penpal program. What happens when the letters go to members of their own school, rather than abroad... guess who they are
1. Chapter 1

An Unexpected Correspondence

Lucawindmover

Chapter One

* * *

><p><em>September 5<em>

_Dear Student,_

_I know these letters are supposed to be anonymous but I think we should use pen names. You can refer to me as Lioness, if you would like._

_This is a bit awkward, I must say. Since I don't know who will receive this letter, I have no idea where to begin. But I didn't want to disappoint my professors so I made sure to be the first to volunteer. I suppose I should begin with myself._

_I'm a girl with brown hair. I like to read because knowledge is the best weapon. My favorite course is potions but no one would suspect it because I don't get along with my professor. But I have always been fascinated by the art._

_Anyway, what is your favorite subject? Do you have any pets? What do your parents do for a living? What is the weather like where you are? I hope to hear from you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Lioness_

She smiled brightly as she signed her penname and sat back in her chair. It was a decent first letter, she thought, considering she had no idea who would receive it. When her professors had first talked about the pen pal program for extra credit, she had thought that she might not have the time, what with all the classes she was taking this year. But she decided to make an effort at least and went ahead and volunteered.

She re-read the letter another time to check for errors before she folded it and tucked it into one of her many school books spread out around her. She had been in the library for more than an hour, though that was not uncommon, and chose to take a break from studying to write the letter.

She checked her watch and noticed that it was rapidly approaching dinner time. If she was going to send off her letter before she went down to eat, she would need to do so now. She gathered up her books and parchment, tucking everything neatly into her backpack. Before she left, she made sure to place all of her borrowed books back where they belonged on the shelves, much to the pleasure of the librarian who often had to go around, picking up after the laziness of a majority of the students.

She hefted her weighty backpack on her shoulders and headed off in the direction of the Owlry, which was quite a trek for her. She realized now that she should have left a bit earlier if she wanted to make it to dinner on time.

She sighed and headed along the many hallways and staircases that would take her to her intended destination. She met quite a few familiar faces along the way; housemates, classmates, and the occasional mortal enemy. One such meeting, as she neared the Owlry caused her to be furious as she tied her letter to the leg of one of the school's owls.

Who was he to look down on her? Who was he to decide that she wasn't good enough to be here? Were her grades not the highest in their class? Had she not proven her courage and strength on numerous occasions in the past? Had she not excelled in everything she put herself into? What did her parentage matter when it came to her ability to do magic and out-perform nearly every one of her classmates?

She sighed and decided it didn't matter. He did these things to get under her skin. If she let it bother her, he will have won. She gave herself a little shake and watched as the brown school owl flew out of sight in the darkening sky. She took a few deep breaths and forced herself to smile. She headed off to dinner with no intention of letting her friends know of her most recent confrontation. They weren't as patient and she didn't want them to get in trouble. They loved her well and hated to see her upset, so she was determined that they wouldn't.

* * *

><p><em>September 12<em>

_Dear Lioness,_

_I've decided to use the pen name Silvertongue. I've just received your letter. My father has requested I play a part in this program though I have no real desire to do so._

_As for your questions: potions also, an eagle owl, parents are too important to tell you about, and the weather is perfect for Quidditch, which is what I'd rather be doing right now._

_So this is the part where I ask you questions, right? Let's see. What is your Quidditch team? Do you have a boyfriend? How old are you? What is your favorite book?_

_That should be enough._

_Emphatically yours,_

_Silvertongue_

He pushed his chair back from his desk and folded his arms behind his head. There, he had written the stupid letter and placated his father. His father had insisted he participate in this silly letter writing campaign, saying that it was very important to have contacts in other countries, wherever possible. One never knew when they would need to have foreign allies, according to him.

He groaned and leaned forward, picking up the letter he had received earlier that day. He decided that whomever had written this letter knew English very well, so she couldn't have been too foreign. He figured it was better that way anyway. He didn't want to have to dumb down his vocabulary just because someone else didn't have a grasp of the language. That was one of his many pet peeves.

He was sure to get an angry reply to his short letter, but he didn't really care. He thought it would be interesting to see how riled up a person could get through just letters. If he could make her mad, that would make this whole pen pal thing more fun. She must be a terrible dork, in his opinion, just because of the comment about wanting to not disappoint her professors. Who was she to be the first one to volunteer? How utterly disgusting.

The small dungeon window over his desk allowed a single shaft of autumn light to fall across the letter he had written. He stood, looking out the window at the perfect Quidditch conditions. He hadn't lied in his letter. He would much rather be outside playing Quidditch than anything else. He stretched and moved across the dormitory room to gather up his Quidditch robes.

It was a Saturday, he shouldn't be closed up in the dorms writing letters. He grabbed the letter on his way out, deciding to take it to the Owlry on his way to the pitch. He tucked it inside his robes because he didn't want any of his housemates to see that he had been writing letters. They had all made fun of the pen pal idea in the common room, just hours ago. He had neglected to tell them that his father was making him participate and he would hate to see their reactions when they found out that he was one of the terrible dorks who had to correspond with foreign students.

He passed a few of his housemates in the common room, not bothering to extend a greeting for he was on a mission. The fewer people to see him in the Owlry, the better. He didn't want to have to answer any stupid questions. He didn't come across many students in the halls or on the stairs along the way. He figured they must all be outside on such a beautiful Saturday afternoon.

There was one person he always seemed to run into, however. Never failed, as he passed the library, that she should stumble out and bump into him. She never paid attention to where she was going, and he made sure to comment on that to her. She glared at him, like she always did, and went on some lame diatribe about how this school belonged to everyone, he didn't own the halls, he should be more considerate, blah, blah, blah…

He hit her with a few harsh words and watched as her face contorted as if she wanted to cry. My work here is done, he thought as he lifted his chin and continued on his way.

* * *

><p>AN: I know that it's pretty obvious who the people writing the letters are. But I'm not saying their names, and they won't say them either. Or the names of anyone else for that matter. This is a challenge to myself, to see if I can make the story believable without names or dialogue. Please let me know if I don't succeed! Thanks for reading and please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. J.K. Rowling is the genius behind Harry Potter and those things related to Harry Potter. I just enjoy tormenting the wonderful characters she has created for us.

Update: As of July 5, 2011, this is a completed story. I wrote it ages ago, before the last book came out. All of my Harry Potter fanfiction used to be posted on another site. I've recently decided to move all of my finished stories here. I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. Thank you for reading and please review.


	2. Chapter 2

"An Unexpected Correspondence"

By Lucawindmover

Chapter Two

* * *

><p>September 20<p>

Dear Silvertongue,

I must say I was disturbed by the shortness of your letter. If you really hate this so much, why don't you just tell your father you'd rather not participate? Surely he wouldn't want to force you to do anything that you really didn't want to do. Besides, I would rather have a pen pal who wanted to write to me. But until we can get that adjusted, I suppose I will try to correspond with you anyway.

I don't really have a Quidditch team. I've never been a very good flyer and it kind of makes me nervous to watch others fly. So Quidditch isn't really my thing. I do always watch my house team because my best friend is the seeker. I feel it necessary to lend my support. And no, I do not have a boyfriend. I did date Victor Krum for a short while but I wasn't very interested in him. There is a boy at my school who I like but I doubt he notices that I am a girl at all. As for how old I am, I'm sixteen and this is my fifth year at school. I don't think I could pick one favorite book, seeing as how I've read so many. But I really like _Hogwarts: A History_. Hogwarts is an amazing castle.

Let me think of a few questions for you. Do you have a girlfriend? What is your favorite color? Have you ever visited outside of your country? Do you have any siblings? There. That should make for an interesting reply.

If you are able to get off of this assignment, let me know. I'm sure they'll send me another pen pal if you ask them to.

Sincerely,

Lioness

She sighed in frustration at the brevity of the letter in her hands. It was obvious to her that the person to whom she was writing did not want to participate in this program, to her displeasure. This was supposed to have been fun, an adventure in getting to know a foreign student. She had nearly thrown the letter away at breakfast, but thought better of it and tucked the blasted thing in to her backpack. She decided to wait until later to reply, when she could write a cool and even response.

Now she sat in the common room at her usual table. Books, quills, ink, and parchment were all spread out around her. It was a noisy point in the night when the younger students were still up and very little studying could be accomplished. She decided to take this opportunity to write her response. Her friends were busy with a game of wizard's chess so she was not likely to be noticed as she wrote the letter. Not as if she was likely to be noticed anyway, since she was always reading or writing something. Even so, she decided to take advantage of their distraction. She read through the first draft of her letter and chose to discard it. She felt that she was a little too harsh.

She finally settled on her fifth draft. She wanted to make sure she expressed her frustration, but also kept it light enough that if she were doomed to keep the same pen-pal, she wouldn't cross any lines. By the time she was finished, she noticed that many of the other students had retired for the evening. Her friends still sat on the couch, involved in their chess game.

Yawning, she decided she would take the letter to the Owlry in the morning, before breakfast. The boys barely acknowledged her as she bid them goodnight and headed off to bed. She climbed the stairs to the girl's dormitory and smiled at the sight that greeted her. All of her roommates were fast asleep in their respective beds and she would not have to listen to their annoying banter tonight. She changed quietly and tucked the letter from her pen-pal into the drawer of the nightstand next to her bed. 'Perhaps I'll receive a better reply this time,' she thought as she climbed under her covers and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>September 27<p>

Dear Lioness,

My father most certainly would force me to do things I don't want to do. He has on many occasions, though it is none of your business. So I will not be stepping out of this program. I'd never hear the end of it when I go home. You will just have to deal with me for this project.

So you've dated Victor Krum, have you? Well then I can guess which school you're from. And how can you not like Quidditch when you've dated him, of all people? Anyway, I'm seeker on my Quidditch team as well. It seems you have an affinity for them. I've tried to read that book and I found it terribly boring. I've been all over Hogwarts and the book does not do it justice.

No, I do not have a girlfriend. I have a girl who thinks she's my friend. My parents will no doubt want me to marry her after graduation but if there were anything I'd put my foot down against, it would be that. There is a girl I like at school, however. My favorite color is green, like my house colors. I've visited plenty of places outside my country. I'd say Paris was my favorite though, the people are so rude. It makes me feel at home. I have no siblings, which is probably why my parents make such a fuss over me. Sometimes I wish I'd had a younger sibling for them to take their wrath out on. Though if I had, I would have had to learn to share, which I do not do.

So let's see, what are your grades like? What is your favorite animal? Do you have any siblings? And if you had to describe your exact opposite, what would that person be like?

Keenly yours,

Silvertongue

He let himself chuckle at her response. He could tell that he must have ruffled a few feathers. Well, that had been his intention. But it seems he had not been able to get her to bugger off and now he truly was stuck with her for this assignment.

He stretched his long legs out in front of him and leaned back against the tree he sat under. It was another beautiful Saturday afternoon, probably one of the few left before the weather turned cold. He sat outside next to the lake, thankful to have escaped his housemates for a few brief moments. He could hear others enjoying the day out on the lawns, and a few others were not too far off along the bank of the lake. He was alone, however, and purposefully too. He folded the letter he had received a few mornings ago and tucked it into his robe pocket.

He began writing without thinking about it. After he had finished his letter, he read back through it and realized that he was expressing more of his thoughts and feelings than he had meant to. He didn't tell people about his father. He didn't talk about girls that he did or didn't like. At least, he didn't talk to his friends or housemates about such things. They were his private affairs and he didn't like to let people in.

'But what could it hurt?' He thought as he shrugged and folded the letter. It wasn't as if he knew her. She went to a different school, perhaps continents away from where he was. She couldn't possibly use this information against him. And perhaps he was longing to have someone to confess to. Perhaps he wanted to have a confidant, someone who he could use like a journal. He wouldn't dare keep an actual journal. It wasn't as if he thought it was a girly thing to do. He just couldn't imagine what he would do if someone were to come across something as personal as that.

With the letters being anonymous, he could say what he wanted without worrying too much. 'Not going to go overboard or anything,' he thought. But it would be a great way to vent about his father.

He grimaced as he recognized a set of voices moving toward his location. He could hear them laughing and joking about something. Better just to skirt the whole confrontation, he figured and gathered himself up. He moved away through the trees without being noticed, looking back to see a glimpse of unruly brown hair, bouncing in the afternoon sun.

* * *

><p>AN: Now, I know that the characters aren't a secret to us. But they are a secret to each other and the longer I go without mentioning names, the easier it is for me to keep them from revealing themselves to each other by mistake. If that doesn't make any sense, I'm sorry. I'm a bit strange. But I want it to be known that I never really intended for their identities to be a secret from the readers. So, if you would just please leave me a review and let me know what you think, it'd be much obliged.

Also, I now have set up a separate Facebook account for my writing! www . facebook . com/Lucawindmover (minus the spaces). This is a great way to keep informed about updates, brainstorming, ask questions and give feedback. For authors, it's a great way to bounce ideas and keep in touch. I hope you will all friend-request me. It's been a lot of fun using this account to keep up with writing!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. J.K. Rowling is the genius behind Harry Potter and those things related to Harry Potter. I just enjoy tormenting the wonderful characters she has created for us.

Update: As of July 5, 2011, this is a completed story. I wrote it ages ago, before the last book came out. All of my Harry Potter fanfiction used to be posted on another site. I've recently decided to move all of my finished stories here. I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. Thank you for reading and please review.


	3. Chapter 3

An Unexpected Correspondence

Lucawindmover

Chapter Three

October 4

* * *

><p>Dear Silvertongue,<p>

I was pleasantly surprised at your last letter. I had all but assumed that I'd be getting a new pen pal. I appreciate you making an effort. It'll make this easier for both of us, I believe. And probably more enjoyable.

That's terrible about being forced to marry someone you don't even like. I could not imagine marrying someone that I didn't love. For your sake, I hope you're able to marry someone you love. Tell me more about this girl that you like, I mean, if you want to. What makes her more likable than the one your parents want you to marry?

And how is it that you've been all over Hogwarts? I wasn't aware that they had foreign visitors. I know that two schools did visit for the Triwizard Tournament, but that is the only time I've known Hogwarts to have visitors in these last five years.

My grades are good, better than most probably. But I always see room for improvement. My parents always encouraged me to do well in school. I know what you mean about needing a younger sibling sometimes. I haven't got one either. Before I came to school, I used to wish for one. But the friends I have now make me feel like I do have siblings. Those boys are pretty protective of me, and I of them.

My favorite animals are probably cats. They're very intuitive creatures, very solitary also. I have a cat and he's the perfect pet for me. He always seems to know when I just need him to curl up in my lap. He has a bad habit of pawing at whatever book I'm reading though. I have yet to break him of that. What animals do you like?

Your last question was really thought provoking. I had to actually think about it for a few minutes before I could come up with a suitable answer. Someone my opposite would be uncaring and unkind. She'd be a slacker, just barely getting by in classes. She would probably be very beautiful and shallow because I'm certainly neither of those. She'd be an excellent flier, maybe even a seeker on a Quidditch team. But you already know that I don't fly well. That's all I can think of off the top of my head. Really, she'd be the girl that everyone falls in love with because I'm the one that no one really pays attention to. That doesn't bother me though. I have my good friends and that's all that really matters to me these days. Though sometimes I wish I was noticed for being a girl. Oh well, it doesn't do to wish for things, right?

So tell me, what makes potions your favorite class? What do you plan to do when you get out of school? Have you ever been to a school dance? Do you have any special plans for Halloween? I hope to hear from you soon.

Until next time,

Lioness

* * *

><p>She laid back in her bed and stared up at the red bed hangings above her and sighed. This pen-pal business was beginning to bother her. She felt like there was a real reason she should know this person she was writing to, but that was impossible. He didn't sound like anyone she met from either Beuxbatons or Durmstrang. She had never met anyone from another school, other than those two.<p>

But there was something haunting about him, something terribly familiar. The thought made her shiver, that she could tell this stranger, who may not be a stranger, so much about herself without knowing who he was. For an instant she was afraid, afraid that perhaps this pen-pal idea was a bad one. With the country in a state of unrest as it was, perhaps she shouldn't be confiding in someone she didn't know. For all the information she had, she could be corresponding with a Death Eater, or someone who hated muggle-borns. She had no real information on this person.

And at the same time, she didn't feel threatened. She knew that she would never tell this person that she was a muggle-born, for her own safety, but she didn't feel as if she were in any real danger. Not once had her pen-pal mentioned a dislike for muggle-borns. For all she knew, he could be one too.

She didn't usually write in bed. But the weather was beginning to get crisp and the common room didn't stay as warm as it had been, so she decided to pull her bed-hangings closed and started on her letter.

The letter took her longer than any of her other letters had. She had so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ask. If she could just ask, flat out, who he was and where he went to school, perhaps she could figure out why he seemed so familiar to her. She decided to go with her first draft this time, instead of re-writing it several times. It wasn't something she normally did, but neither was writing to strangers who seemed familiar.

She heard her roommates file into the room to get ready for bed. She tucked the letter she had received and the letter she had written into the table next to her bed and decided to be social for once. She pulled her bed-hangings open and listened for a little while to the gossip of the other girls.

They spoke of who was dating who, and who was wearing what, and who they wanted to go to Hogsmeade with for Halloween. She didn't particularly care about any of these things but it felt nice to be included when they asked her opinion on one rumor or another. She listened to who they thought was attractive. When someone mentioned a particular blonde-haired boy, she shuddered and remembered her encounter with him on her way to Herbology that afternoon.

They'd had quite a yelling match, as usual, when she stood up for another of her classmates. He called her the usual batch of foul names and she stormed off. There was something that in the way that he phrased his sentences, however, that had her mind buzzing. She knew she was missing something, but she just didn't know what.

* * *

><p>October 11<p>

Dear Lioness,

While I appreciate your sympathy, it wasn't what I was looking for when writing my last letter. Let's keep that out of these, shall we? And surely I'll be able to find a way out of that arranged marriage. With the times the way they are now, nothing is for sure. With the idea of the Dark Lord having risen again there is no way to really plan that far ahead. I'm not sure if I believe it, but then again it could happen.

I've been all over Hogwarts because I live here. Which leads to the question of which school you go to? You seem to know an awful lot about my school. Could it be the owls got crossed somewhere and we're actually both from Hogwarts? That's very unlikely but I thought I'd throw it out there.

I won't tell you much about the girl I like, just in case you are from the same school as I am. But I'll tell you a little, I suppose, for the sake of the program. She's witty and smart and confident. I guess that's why I don't like the girl my parents want me to marry. That girl is just a shadow, a reflection. She has no personality except that of the people around her. I don't want an echo, I want an argument. I don't want someone to agree with everything I say and hang on to my every word. It's annoying. I'd rather be with someone who makes me think, who challenges me. And the girl that I like does all these things. But she's forbidden territory and I won't say another word about her.

There aren't a whole lot of creatures that stand out to me. I have a close bond with my owl though. He's very smart, smarter than our school owls. But I've always been fond of horses as well. I was able to take horseback riding lessons when I was small, and my father even bought me a black mare who I named Ebony. They got rid of her when I came to school though. If I had a heart, it would have been broken because that horse was the first being that I can actually say I loved. I've grown up a lot since then though, and learned not to place so much feeling on a creature that is destined to die long before I do.

Potions is my favorite course because it's meticulous. It's very precise and exact. The smallest change in the directions of a potion can turn it to the opposite of what you meant it to be. I suppose I'm of a meticulous nature to find such a thing enthralling. Under the aegis of my very knowledgeable professor, I've been able to excel in the class.

Like I said before, with the times we live in it's hard to plan too far ahead into the future. So I'm not really sure what I'd like to do when I get out of school. I've thought of studying potions further, to become a Potions Master. But I don't think I could teach. I don't have the patience to deal with little first years messing everything up. Perhaps the Ministry could use my talents, but I don't know how they would. So as of right now, I have no idea.

Yes, I have been to a school dance. Last year, as you pointed out, Hogwarts held the Triwizard Tournament and thus the Yule Ball. I've been to countless affairs where I had to dress and act the gentleman so it wasn't terribly entertaining to me. I had more fun watching the others in the school, who had never been to such a function, trying to dance and move about in dress robes.

I haven't made definite plans for Halloween yet, but usually they hold a feast in the Great Hall. I believe Halloween and our Hogsmeade weekend coincide this time, so perhaps I'll go down there for a butterbeer and some sweets. I'm not sure yet. What are you likely to do?

I don't have a lot of questions for you this time. I just want to know what school you are from so we can put this all to rest, once and for all.

Enchantingly yours,

Silvertongue

* * *

><p>He was in the library. It was a place he didn't frequent often because it made him uncomfortable. He couldn't usually get his lackeys to venture in here and was often here alone. This was the home of one of his enemies, a girl who grinded his every last nerve, a person whose buttons he knew better than anyone else's. The girl who challenged him on everything and constantly caused him to question himself. She made him uncomfortable in every way imaginable.<p>

But she wasn't here today, for which he was thankful. He could sit in peace, at a table by the window, and write the response to the letter he had received a few days prior. He glanced outside at the dreary, rainy landscape. If the weather had been perfect during his other letter writing days, it was the opposite now. The days had turned cooler, the leaves on the trees either dying or falling, and the rain had set in, adding to the dreary atmosphere in the castle.

He read her letter again. He hated and appreciated her sympathy at the same time. People rarely sympathized with him. But then, he rarely let someone know enough about himself for them to do so. Now that someone had shown him that compassion, he felt weak and vulnerable.

He began his letter with that frustration still fresh in his mind, and all but forgot about it before he reached the end for another thought had struck him. He was fairly sure that the person he was writing to had at least been to Hogwarts before. He decided that she either went to the school or had visited the school from Durmstrang when they held the Triwizard Tournament. He decided to stop beating around the bush and just ask her about it. He didn't like to play games much and thought it would just be better this way.

Just as he was finishing up the letter, who should stumble in but his least favorite person. She didn't seem to even see him, as her thoughts were on one project or another, and she dove right into a book before she had even sat at the table. She was only two tables away from him and he was surprised that she didn't notice him at all. He took a moment to just watch her. A loose strand of her hair kept falling into her eyes as she read, and she kept moving it aside. He watched as she mouthed some of the word she read, imprinting them into her mind, he supposed. He did the same thing when he was alone.

She startled him when she turned quickly to get quill and parchment from her backpack. He figured he couldn't get away with watching her for much longer and slipped out of the library while she was distracted. As far as he knew, she didn't see him.

But he missed her knowing smile as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>AN: So we haven't a whole lot more left to go. What do you guys think? Leave me a review and let me know. To those of you who review every time, thank you so much. They mean a lot to me. To those of you who read and never review, what's keeping you from doing so now?

Also, I now have set up a separate Facebook account for my writing! www . facebook . com/Lucawindmover (minus the spaces). This is a great way to keep informed about updates, brainstorming, ask questions and give feedback. For authors, it's a great way to bounce ideas and keep in touch. I hope you will all friend-request me. It's been a lot of fun using this account to keep up with writing!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. J.K. Rowling is the genius behind Harry Potter and those things related to Harry Potter. I just enjoy tormenting the wonderful characters she has created for us.

Update: As of July 5, 2011, this is a completed story. I wrote it ages ago, before the last book came out. All of my Harry Potter fanfiction used to be posted on another site. I've recently decided to move all of my finished stories here. I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. Thank you for reading and please review.


	4. Chapter 4

"An Unexpected Correspondence"

By Lucawindmover

Chapter Four

* * *

><p>October 17<p>

Dear Silvertongue,

Well, you've answered my most pressing question in your last letter, which would be the school you attend. Imagine my surprise when I read that you are, in fact, from Hogwarts. I am here at Hogwarts as well. I'm not sure how this has happened, but I can inquire about it if you'd like. Surely one of the teachers will know what happened.

Do you want to continue to be pen-pals, even though we go to the same school? I mean, it's been nice getting to know someone new and even having someone to confide in. If you'd rather we didn't because we go to the same school and know some of the same people, I'd understand.

And if you decide you'd rather not be pen-pals any longer, let's at least meet one another. I've racked my brain trying to think of who you could be. I've come up with several ideas, each as bizarre and unlikely as the next. I'm sure you're Slytherin at least, because of the comment about your favorite color being green, as your house colors. But you've never said what year you are in. I'm assuming you're at least in fifth year because you had to be in fourth year to attend the Yule Ball. But I'm rambling.

I wonder why we didn't see the signs earlier. I mean, if you look back through out letters to each other, we really should have seen that we were at the same school all along. I mean, we both knew English too well to have been from a foreign school. But I suppose the power of suggestion goes a long way. We were told by the teachers that we would be corresponding with people from other schools, so we didn't question it until it became obvious that it wasn't true. And having said that, I wonder if the teachers did this on purpose, or whether our writing to one another was truly an accident. I suppose I'll find out when I speak with them.

I'm going to ask you this just once. Would you like to meet me? We could meet in Hogsmeade for Halloween. If so, just let me know where you'd like to meet and when, and I'll be there. I'll make sure to leave my friends behind for a little bit, if you wouldn't mind doing the same. I don't know about you but we should probably keep this to ourselves. I didn't tell anyone that I had taken up the pen-pal project and I'd rather they didn't know. They think I already have too much on my plate as it is. They'd take the mickey out of me for sure.

I hope to hear from you again soon,

Lioness

* * *

><p>She looked curiously at the letters spread out before her. She did not want to be right. She didn't want to think that the person she had in mind, the person she was sure wrote these letters, was the correct person. She had never wanted to be wrong before. She read through each of the letters, again and again, searching for any and every clue he had given her to who his identity was.<p>

She sighed and sat up in her chair, stretching her arms over her head and rotating her neck. She had spent most of her morning here in the library, pouring over the letters. She had finally written her response a few moments ago, and needed to rest her eyes for a bit. She glanced around the library for the first time in about an hour and was surprised at who she saw in the corner.

Her enemy, the boy who pushed all of her buttons, the boy who was rude and proud and frustrating, sat quietly at a table in the corner, reading some schoolbook and idly tapping his quill on the table.

She couldn't help but watch him for a moment as he twirled his quill and mouthed a few of the words he was reading, as if he were imprinting them into his brain. She wasn't used to seeing him outside the company of his cronies, or even in the library for that matter. She had noticed that he frequented the library more often recently than he had been previously, but she figured it had something to do with the extra load of homework the professors were giving them in order to prepare them for their O.W.L.s at the end of the year.

She watched as he stopped tapping his quill and managed to turn her eyes away just before his gaze landed on her. She tried to keep her eyes on the letters, not actually reading any of them but trying to make it look as if she were. She could see him watching her, out of her peripheral vision. She couldn't, for the life of her, think of any reason why he would still be watching her.

For a desperate moment, she was afraid he would come to her table and discover her letters. Quickly, she gathered up the letters and tucked them into her backpack. There was no way she was going to get anything else accomplished with his passive-aggressive attempt to frustrate her. She hefted her backpack on her shoulder and left the library, making her way down to the lake to finish studying.

* * *

><p>October 24<p>

Dear Lioness,

Well, that solves one mystery, doesn't it? I suppose meeting would be a good idea at this point because we can't pretend that we don't know each other. We have to have met at some point in our schooling.

I won't bring any of my friends either. No one else knows that I have participated in this program either. In fact, a few of my fellow Slytherins were joking about the idea and the people who would participate in such an exercise. Naturally, I didn't want to be the subject of ridicule so I didn't say a word.

But I will say, even if we decide to stop writing to one another upon meeting, this has been a more pleasant experience than I had originally thought possible. I didn't think I would like writing to someone, but I suppose it was nice to have someone to open up to. I wasn't a willing participant at first, and for that I apologize. That isn't something I tend to do often, so make sure you make a note of it.

I will meet you at three in the afternoon at Honeydukes. The store is sure to be busy so I'll be sitting on the bench outside. If you aren't there by quarter after the hour, I'll assume you got cold feet and backed out, though try not to do that for I don't want to waste my afternoon. I have other things to do as well.

Until Halloween,

Silvertongue

* * *

><p>He couldn't believe his luck. He was sure he knew who it was he was writing to. He sat now in his bed in his dormitory, pondering the clues he had to her identity. There were only so many people that it could be. But if he were correct, it would mean he had been writing to the last person he wanted to be writing to. Not just because he despised her, but because he didn't despise her as well.<p>

He knew this didn't make any sense. In fact, emotions and thoughts in themselves never seemed to make any sense in his opinion. How could a person hate another person, and be so fascinated by that person at the same time? She was the one he had written about. She was the person who challenged him. She was the one who argued with him. She was the person who caused his stomach to drop out when he found himself in too close proximity to her. These feelings infuriated him, made him feel weak and vulnerable. And such feelings usually were the precursor to his annoying her. He would use his frustration at his own emotions to verbally abuse her, as if she were purposely causing him to feel the way he felt.

He sighed. He knew he was thinking irrationally. He had already sent the letter telling her that he would meet her on Halloween. He was certain of whom it was he was meeting, for reasons he was sure she wasn't aware of.

Just a week ago, he had seen her in the library, which in itself was not unusual in the least. But he noticed that she was pouring over sheets of parchment with his handwriting on them. Even from a few tables over he could recognize his own looping script. His first notion was that she had stolen his notes from one class or another, but upon assessing the situation, he realized what it was she was studying.

His stomach had dropped out at the discovery. He wanted to be wrong. He had never wanted to be wrong before as badly as he had that day. In his attempt to get a better look at the letters she had, he had inadvertently made her aware of his gaze and thus scared her off. He mentally kicked himself afterward for his blatant staring.

But now he knew. He knew who it was he was meeting on Halloween afternoon. He couldn't imagine how she would react, but he supposed it wouldn't go well. A naïve portion of his brain hoped that they could still be pen-pals even though they were outwardly enemies. He hated himself for hoping it for it made him feel strange. He supposed he would have to wait and find out.

* * *

><p>AN: I know, this was a short chapter. But it was necessary because it's obviously a set-up chapter. The next chapter should be the last in this story, but if you guys are convinced I need a sequel, I might be persuaded to oblige. Please review and let me know what you think. This has been a fun, although very challenging, story to write and while I'm excited to have it nearly finished, it is a little bittersweet.

Also, I now have set up a separate Facebook account for my writing! www . facebook . com/Lucawindmover (minus the spaces). This is a great way to keep informed about updates, brainstorming, ask questions and give feedback. For authors, it's a great way to bounce ideas and keep in touch. I hope you will all friend-request me. It's been a lot of fun using this account to keep up with writing!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. J.K. Rowling is the genius behind Harry Potter and those things related to Harry Potter. I just enjoy tormenting the wonderful characters she has created for us.

Update: As of July 5, 2011, this is a completed story. I wrote it ages ago, before the last book came out. All of my Harry Potter fanfiction used to be posted on another site. I've recently decided to move all of my finished stories here. I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. Thank you for reading and please review.


	5. Chapter 5

"An Unexpected Correspondence"

By Lucawindmover

Chapter Five

* * *

><p>October had been unusually chilly. The day was bright, but brisk. The air tingled with the possibility of snow in the coming week or so. This did not matter in the least to the students milling about in Hogsmeade, thankful for a day away from their school and home. Projects, papers, and homework forgotten, the children darted to and fro in groups of two or more. Laughter abounded and a good bit of mischief was wrought out of sight of adults.<p>

A particular trio wandered amiably through the crowded streets, partaking in jokes and banter in their usual manner. The boys were ready for butterbeers, having left their cloaks behind. She took leave of them, pleading early Christmas shopping, and told them to have one on her. She tucked a few coins apiece in their hands and grinned, disappearing into the crowd before they could even argue. Not that she figured they would argue much, but she would not give them the chance if she could help it.

She bobbed against the general flow of traffic, which was a pet peeve of hers when others did it, but something she could not help at the moment. It seemed that most everyone had already filled their pockets with sweets and were also on their way for something warm to drink. She grinned at her luck. This meeting was going to be awkward enough without adding a load of gawking classmates into the equation.

The wind caught her and blew a few strands of hair into her face. She was instantly glad she read the weather forecast in the paper at breakfast and had decided to pull her hair back this morning, otherwise her usually frizzy hair would also be tangled in her eyes. The brunette stifled a yawn. She had lain in her bed the previous night, tortured at the thoughts of the meeting today. Every worst case scenario whirred through her mind. What if he publicly ridiculed her…again? What if his cronies were there? What if her friends found out? There were too many ways that this situation could go wrong. She sincerely regretted ever writing the first letter.

Yet at the same time, she missed the letters. She wanted so badly to write to Silvertongue one more time, expressing all of her fears and hopes about this meeting, as if it were not in fact him that she was meeting. She knew she could not, and would not, do such a thing. Not now.

Suddenly, he was there. Just in front of her, barring her path. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and pulled her into a small alleyway in between two buildings. She looked around to make sure no one had seen them.

He let her go and leaned back against the wall behind him with his arms crossed. Neither of them spoke. It seemed as if neither of the wanted to be the first to admit the truth.

"Lioness."

"Silvertongue."

Silence.

"This isn't where you told me to meet you, if you'll remember your last letter."

She could not read his expression. She was sure he was expressionless on purpose, as frustrating as that was to her. She narrowed her eyes. "Well, I suppose that's that then, isn't it?" She said and turned to walk away.

"Wait."

She turned back around. She waited. He did not say anything.

"Is there something in particular that I'm waiting for, Silvertongue?" she said, emphasizing his penname. She crossed her arms and matched his stance. His cold, gray eyes stared into hers, raising little chill bumps on the backs of her arms. She held her gaze.

He sighed. She could see something stirring in him, just below the surface. She could not, for the life of her, figure out what it was.

"You didn't tell anyone, did you? You know, that it was me? That I wrote you letters?"

"No, I told you that I didn't tell anyone I was doing this. And I haven't asked the teachers about it either. I'd rather like to think that we weren't set up."

He nodded. "I didn't say anything either. I'd promise but I don't know how much that would help my case," he said, smirking.

She shrugged.

Another silence.

"So what do we do now?" she said, finally voicing what she figured they both were wondering.

"I figure we have two options," he started. "We either go on, life as usual and forget this ever happened. Or-" he paused, as if digesting what he was about to say. "Or, we continue writing letters to one another. As Silvertongue and Lioness."

She thought about this. The thought had crossed her mind a hundred times but she never thought he would think it too.

"If you're interested in continuing to write, I'm interested also. It's been nice having a pen-pal," she said, almost allowing herself to smile in his presence.

He smirked. "Don't go mushy on me. Fine then, it's agreed. We continue."

He held his hand out to shake on it. She hesitated a moment and then took it. She could not help but smile when he grinned and said, "Until then, Lioness."

"Until then, Silvertongue."

* * *

><p>November 6<p>

Dearest Lioness,

I appreciate your meeting me last weekend. I am…disturbed…to say that I actually was right about who I thought you might be. At first I had hoped that I wasn't right, which is unlike me as you know, but then I found that I was glad it was you. It took me a few letters, and then going back to read the letters, to figure out who you actually were. Given our track record and the information that I'd given you about myself, I figured I was in big trouble. I would have thought you'd have told your best friends about me at least, so that the three of you could have a good laugh at my expense. It's nice to know that you have kept these things to yourself, and that I can trust you to keep them to yourself in the future. I don't have anyone else, honestly that I trust in that way.

I have friends, don't get me wrong. I am, in fact, quite popular. But I would not call the two of us "friends" exactly, just pen-pals. The friends I have are not reliable, not even the girl who I occasionally date. Perhaps especially the girl I occasionally date. She is the last person I would try to confide in. I only tell her things that I expect half of the school has already known about. This way she will be able to fill in the half that doesn't already know.

I assume this is a little awkward now. It's strange knowing who is going to read this. The fact that I'm going to see you around doesn't help. I hope you don't think that this is going to change anything between us when we're around anyone. I don't suppose this will really change anything between us when we're alone either, but especially not when other people can see us, surely.

Anywho, I feel that I am rambling. I've spent a few days trying to think of a way to begin this letter. And now I'm having a hard time ending it as well. Suffice to say that this is a little more difficult than it used to be, and far harder than I expected it would ever become. I hope you reply in a timely manner and have something interesting to say because I don't want to regret the decision that I've made here. I will have to agree with you, mushy or not, this has been a pleasant experience.

Yours Truly,

Silvertongue

P.S. You should wear your hair up more.

* * *

><p>AN: And there you have it. I have left it open-ended so that you can all imagine what could happen next. It's possible that I've enough ideas for a sequel, but if I can't make it superb, I'd rather not write it at all. I don't want to get half into a story and get you guys excited and then not have enough to finish it. This was never meant to be a long story, and almost was a one-shot.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. You've all been excellent.

Until next time,

Lucawindmover

Also, I now have set up a separate Facebook account for my writing! www . facebook . com/Lucawindmover (minus the spaces). This is a great way to keep informed about updates, brainstorming, ask questions and give feedback. For authors, it's a great way to bounce ideas and keep in touch. I hope you will all friend-request me. It's been a lot of fun using this account to keep up with writing!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. J.K. Rowling is the genius behind Harry Potter and those things related to Harry Potter. I just enjoy tormenting the wonderful characters she has created for us.

Update: As of July 5, 2011, this is a completed story. I wrote it ages ago, before the last book came out. All of my Harry Potter fanfiction used to be posted on another site. I've recently decided to move all of my finished stories here. I'll post the next chapter tomorrow. Thank you for reading and please review.


End file.
